


Not my fault, just a thing that my mind do

by Fhelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Season 7 inspired, it's not that sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11456556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fhelle/pseuds/Fhelle
Summary: Chapter 1: Jon and Sansa say goodbye far away from the eyes of Littlefinger and Winterfell.Chapter 2: Sansa misses Jon and Ghost is there to make her feel better.Chapter 3: Jon comes back from the war.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic in English and in the GoT fandom, so I hope you'll liked it!  
> If there are any mistakes please tell me.  
> Jonsa is possible, I know it in my heart. 
> 
> Title comes from The Louvre by Lorde.

Sansa knows she is capable of doing things that are not good. The backstabbing and the lies she was told in King’s Landing. The lies she had to tell in The Vale, and the brutal and sadistic rape she had to endure under Ramsay’s disgusting hands.

It has changed her _. Perhaps it was all for the best_ , she thinks. _Maybe I can do what my father could not._

She wants to be capable of going to Littlefinger’s room and pretend she will give him what he most desires, _pretend she desires him too_. She imagines he would try to act gentle and thoughtful, but she knows he is not; he would be like all the others. But then, when he least expects it; she will pull a dagger out of her dress and slash his throat. She wouldn’t mind his blood all over her. 

Or maybe borrow one of his schemes and poison his wine. He wants a wedding after all. It would be poetic justice. She might even send a letter to Cersei telling her the good news.

 _But the dogs are still here, under my command, —_ she thinks. — _give him the same fate as Ramsay._ _Dog shit._

“… of course, he would do us a favor if he gets eaten by a dragon. Don’t you think my dear?”

Sansa shuts down her thoughts.

“Indeed my Lord. But we know things are never that easy.”

“Well, the arrival of a Targaryen is going to bring only chaos, and that’s when we will act.” said Littlefinger. _He and his stupid chaos._

Jon is with Davos in the courtyard, he gives a nod and Davos shouts that is time to leave. The gates are already open; the small party that is going with them starts marching and Jon looks at her, and all she wants to do is run to him and beg him to stay, to take her with him, to him to come back. _Please just stay with me._

But her composure is stoical, cold-hearted. That has given her a nickname. She heard a maid saying “everybody´s talking about the Mother of Dragons, when the only bitch we need to worry about is Ice Queen the King is gonna leave in charge.”

Sansa wanted to slap her, punish her. It was her right as a Stark. She did not.

She was supposed to be kind, her subjects were supposed to respect her and love her.

_Can I do bad things and still be kind, be good?_

She looks at the courtyard and Jon is not there anymore.

“If you excuse me, my Lady, I have a few things to take care of, but I hope to see you soon.” Littlefinger murmured. It gives her shivers.

“The same is for me my Lord.” said Sansa. Petyr Baelish gives her a kiss in the cheek. She wants to tear her face apart.

Sansa watches him leave and realizes he looks a little more… relaxed, satisfied.

Jon’s absence has him this way. _But it won’t be for long, that I can be sure._

Yet, this relaxedness gives her a chance to continue with her plan. Sansa waits until the sun is down, and in this case, the winter is a blessing. Brienne and Pod are already waiting for her at the stables, they grab the horses and after checking they are not being spied on, they ride in the same direction Jon went a few hours before.

She feels so afraid, even more than when she knew she was about to be tortured by Joffrey or Ramsay, it’s a different fear, more frightening. Her trusty companions do not make her feel less scared. Then she sees the silhouette of Ghost running through the woods, but with the same pace as Brienne, Pod and her.

_Right now everything is well. Jon is okay._

They meet Jon half way. He is waiting for her behind a tree. Brienne and Pod give him a nod but stay in their horses; they are going to keep their distance watching and doing surveillance while Jon and Sansa talk.

Jon helps her to get down of her horse, his contact calms her immediately. She wants to hug him but somehow that action is difficult.

“Everything went well?” Jon asked.

“Yes, Littlefinger was very pleased, I think for tonight he is just going to enjoy he has Winterfell all by himself.”

“That doesn’t make me feel good.” He said.

“Me neither.” Sansa whispered, almost only for herself.

They don’t say anything else, the point of that meeting in the middle of the night was only to say goodbye. They wanted Littlefinger to think they were parting in disagreement, after a row.

“Jon, I know I’ve said it before but please be careful. Protect only yourself, I don’t care if it sounds selfish.”

He smiles. She realizes in that moment that Jon’s smiles are something to be treasure, even if it is a sad smile; it makes him look more beautiful.

“Aye, I’ll try. You do the same. And write me, I don’t want to spend a day without reading a letter of yours.” Jon said gently.

“You know they would be read by little birds before they get to you, right?”

“I don’t care, just do it.”

It’s Sansa’s turn to smile.

“Is that an order my King?” Sansa asked teasingly.

The air between them changes. She doesn’t want to read too much into that, but the fact is she’s feeling something she’s never felt before. He is tensed too. The breath that comes out of his mouth increases in the winter night.

_Grab me, kiss my neck._

Her thoughts confuse her. She should feel ashamed, but there is so much excitement running through her veins.

_Have my hips against yours. Please Jon._

They hear Brienne and Pod coming closer. It’s time to say goodbye.

“We have to go,” said Jon. “This is not the last time we see each other Sansa, I promise.”

_I want to feel your breath over me, just once._

Sansa doesn’t know what to say. She does not want to act like the night before the battle against Ramsay. She loses all her self control and goes against his arms. This embrace feels different than the one in Castle Black.

“Jon, I…” she has no words.

“Don’t say anything.”

They look at each other, she knows he is going to kiss her in the forehead, yet she moves and his lips are just beside her nose, above her mouth. Her eyes are close, his lips feel so soft. How could his lips be soft, in this winter? She opens her eyes.

Why he has to look at her that way? Like she is something marvelous, like she can give him the nothingness she possesses and it would be enough for him.

_Don’t look at me that way Jon, not when you are going away._

They pull apart; he helps her saddle in her horse. She hears Brienne and Pod wishing him well and he says something back. She looks at him one more time and orders her horse to run.

Sansa knows no one can protect anyone, yet she makes a silent promise. _I’ll do anything necessary to keep you safe, even if it’s horrible, even if I won’t deserve you in the end._


	2. Chapter 2

Since Ilyn Payne cut off her father’s head, Sansa has not had a good night’s rest. She now considers sleeping the absolute luxury.

Sansa tosses around in her bed, fixes her pillows and her hand goes to feel the edge of a blade hidden in them, she counts the cracks in the ceiling, but nothing works, she can’t sleep.

She believed that now that Arya and Bran were back home, that discovering they were alive and well would grant her some slumber.

But Arya and Bran are not the same. She is not the same. They don’t know each other anymore, and no matter how much she loves them, this house is now full of strangers.

She can’t help but think; _Jon is not a stranger._

No, for her Jon is Jon. Jon is kind, honorable, strong, and hard headed. Jon is warm after so much cold, Jon is what´s missing; Jon would make this a home.

She misses him so terrible, and it feels bad, because she knows Arya and Bran have treasured him since they were little and yearn to see him. She’s had Jon for months, yet she can’t seem to find the words to show him how much she cares for him, how happy she is _was_ with him.

Sansa hears a crack in her door and immediately grabs the blade under the pillow.

Ghost walks in and puts his head on her bed. Sansa relaxes, frees the blade and her hand goes to caress his fur.

“Are you here to keep me safe?” She asks; her voice is a whisper.

Ghost does not move nor reacts, but somehow Sansa feels his red eyes are saying _“Yes”_.

Sansa sighs, she is so worried about his master, yet Ghost is here with her. “Do you think he’s safe?”

In her mind, Ghost answers _“Not as safe as he could be.”_

She looks around the bedroom, to assure herself she’s alone with Ghost. “I miss him,” she confesses.

Could she ask him, a loyal direwolf, to betray his master’s trust and tell her something she wants, _aches_ to know?

“Do you think he misses me?”

_“Too much.”_

Sansa thinks perhaps Ghost is lying, or her mind has simply lost one more strand of sanity, but right now she feels there is a chance of Jon missing her, maybe as much as she misses him, and that just feels _so good_. Ghost’s paw pats her hand hanging from the bed and Sansa caresses his fur again, she finally can close her eyes, and then, lets herself go to a world where people can protect their loved ones.

_What a beautiful dream that would be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!! Any mistakes please let me know :)


	3. Chapter 3

Arya rushes to his arms; he docks a little to be at her height and hugs her. She feels so good in his arms, Jon cannot believe it.

 _She’s here,_ he thinks, _I’m here. We are home._

They pull apart a little and Jon catches a glimpse of Needle in her clothes.

“You kept it.” Jon says with a smile.

“Of course I did.”

Jon hugs her again. Arya smells like trees and earth, like wolf too. Arya smells like home.

“The King in the North shouldn’t be kneeling for nobody, not even to hug his favorite sister.” Arya whispers. He doesn’t miss the irony in each one of her words.

“Favorite, huh? What makes you think that?” Jon replies.

“Are you saying Sansa is now your favorite sister?” Arya asks mockingly. He knows she is just joking, her intentions are not mean. Yet, it hurts a little.

_No. Not sister._

“Haven’t you heard the news?” Jon gets up “I’m your cousin.”

Arya looks at him, almost reprimanding him.

“I don’t care. You are still my brother,” she grabs his hands, “my favorite brother.”

Jon smiles, though he’s not sure if he should. Maybe in the world before King Robert came to Winterfell to seek Ned Stark’s help that would have been something to laugh about; but Jon’s sense of humor is lost forever.

 _Did you have any to begin with?_ A voice with a sardonic tone appears in his head. Jon could swear is Sansa.

“Where is Sansa?” He asks, his voice anxious.

“She’s sleeping.” Jon tries to hide his disappointment, but fails. Arya grabs his hand and squeezes it.

“Don’t hold it against her she’s not here to welcome you, running Winterfell leaves her exhausted.”

Jon nods. Of course she is sleeping, it’s the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to make a big entrance. Still, he _needs_ to see her.

“Are you happy, with her as…Lady of Winterfell?”

“She’s the best.” Arya smiles, she looks so proud, so joyful.

“Although she should just be called Queen, don’t you agree?” Arya says thoughtfully.

Jon gulps. He can’t find the words to say how much he agrees with that notion. Sansa as Queen is the only thing he’s sure would be right in this mad world.

_My Queen._

“Can I see her?” Jon asks.

“You are the King; you can do whatever you want.” Arya says, giving him a knowing look. Jon sighs in return.

“Arya, please.”

She sighs too, annoyed.

“Come.”

Every time they cross with a servant they bend and salute him. Jon will never get used to that. When they pass by Sansa’s room, Jon puts his hand in the handle, but freezes.

“Sansa isn’t there.” Arya says behind him.

Jon turns back and looks at her questioningly.

“She’s sleeping in your chambers.” She answers and keeps walking.

Jon can´t help it. His heart skips a beat.

He wants to ask why is Sansa sleeping in his room, but he can’t. He’s too afraid that would reveal all his hopes, fears, wants, insecurities.

Apparently, Arya is not only a trained killer, she also reads minds.

 “She just likes to be there,” she says.

They reach the bedroom. Jon swallows hard. He opens the door and is about to give his first step when he encounters two red eyes looking at him, and a big mouth full of teeth. Ghost is protecting her, just like he had asked him to do.

“Ghost, it’s me, Jon.”

Ghost grunts at him some more, but then rearranges himself on the floor.

There is only one lit candle, but its fire is enough for Jon to see Sansa; her red hair seems to capture the light of the candle and expand it a little in the room. The robe she’s wearing reveals one pale shoulder and all Jon wants to do is kiss it.

Jon remembers where he is and with who, but when he looks back at Arya she’s not there anymore.

He looks at his room, and realizes everything is intact; the only difference is Sansa in his bed.

She doesn’t deserve being awakened only because he wants to hear her voice, or feel her eyes on him. He is about to leave when she opens her eyes.

“Jon?” Sansa mumbles.

“Yes, I… I just arrived.” Jon says.

Sansa sits slowly, “You must be tired, I’m sorry.”

“Stay here. I can sleep somewhere else.” Jon starts moving, but Sansa grabs his hand.

“No, don’t go. Stay here with me.”

 “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Maybe he’ll never understand what truly means for her to allow him to be with her in a bed, in the dark. Her consent, if only for this moment or this night, is everything.

Jon removes his heavy clothes, leaving his shirt and breeches on. He lies down carefully on the bed and looks at her.

Sansa puts her hand on his face, and Jon cannot breathe. She is so warm that it burns him.

“Sansa, I…”

Her lips find his, her kiss is soft. He has never met such tenderness before.

“Don’t say anything.”

It’s strange. He wants to tell her so many things, yet, for the first time in a long time, he feels safe. For all his talk about protecting her, she is the one to calm him, she makes a shelter where all the things he has to say can wait, and only one matters, _I love you._

Jon can’t remember the last time he slept well, and he had thought that Sansa beside him would only make harder for him to reach the realms of dreams. It’s not; slumber has never come that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Help. I don´t know how to mark this work as complete. Anybody?


End file.
